


Chance

by Commanderling



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: Cute, Last Stand of the Wreckers, Sadness, Sins of the Wreckers, Spoilers, Wreckers, maybe? - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-26
Updated: 2016-12-28
Packaged: 2018-09-12 07:08:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,891
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9061801
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Commanderling/pseuds/Commanderling
Summary: The story of how Prowl saved Osteros, and how he watches him grow into the bot he knows today.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Please tell me if you want me to continue this because I will if people like it.

Prowl was standing behind Mesothulus, watching him as his fast hands worked on the machine in front of the two. He promised, “I know what I’m doing, I know it will work,” and Prowl continually believed him. However, watching it actually being created made him doubt more and more about the sturdiness of this project. Would the creature be in pain, would it live, would it be outcast to the world? He had heard stories of Frankenstein’s monster, and watching this, he could not help but remember the terrible pain of that story. “Mesothulus,” Prowl started, but the scientist was too invested in his own creation to worry about what Prowl had to say. So he let him be.

Seconds turned to hours, hours turned to days, and Prowl continually watched as the poor deranged and somewhat delusional mech continued on what he thought was a masterpiece. Finally, as Prowl lay recharging in his chamber, he was summoned by him to come and meet the new creation. Excitedly walking along, Mesothulus exclaimed, “His name is Osteros. He looked at me, Prowl. He’s alive.” Something inside Prowl jumped a little in excitement. “I’m glad you’re happy about this. It’s great to know that you’ve finished that fragging project.” 

Leading him down the stairs, through the halls, and slightly increasing his speed, Mesothulus jerked a single hand out to open the doors that would lead to his laboratory. Through the threaded windows, Prowl saw two bright blue optics, indicating that the creatures spark was alive and glowing. The bot held back a gasp, suddenly realizing that he had actually doubted his partner when he spoke to him so excitedly. A part of him realized that he was afraid to see the creature, er, bot because he didn’t know its behavior, and more importantly, if it was stable. Prowl knew that he felt scared, but urged himself not to show his emotions. Instead, he pondered, “You told me his name was Osteros?” looking quizzically at Mesothulus. In response, the larger mech grinned, “Yes, a perfect name for a perfect creation.” Mesothulus, without hesitation, marched inside of the laboratory, and placed a hand on Osteros’ shoulder pad. “The first instance of Cybertronian life to have ever been created…without natural means.” Of course, Mesothulus meant that he had created the bot from pure raw materials. No spark, he had created that himself. No optics, or frame, nothing was not created by Mesothulus, and he showed how proud of himself he was in the way he staked across the lab.

“Speak for our guest, Osteros,” the mech commanded. Mesothulus and Prowl both watched as Osteros sat up straighter, turned his constantly smiling face towards Prowl, and then froze. The tension in the room increased as Mesothulus walked over and hit Osteros across his smiling face, which quickly turned to a frown followed by a whimper by the small green bot. “I SAID SPEAK, creation, speak.” A creaking sound came out of Osteros at that. “H-hello,” they managed to squeak, turning their frown into a smile once more. Prowl, feeling almost no pity for the bot, turned to Mesothulus questioningly, and said, “does he know the full Cybertronian vernacular?” Mesothulus chuckled and replied, “My creation is an idiot. I’ve only so far been able to teach him ‘hello’, ‘yes’, and ‘thank you’. At least, that’s all he needs to know.” Tugging his arm around the startled bot, Mesothulus looked into his optics and said, “but I still love him. Sorry little guy.” Osteros simply smiled and said ‘thank you’.

***

The heat was seeping into his circuitry, but he knew what he was doing was right. Prowl scoured the area to make sure that every last bit of Mesothulus’ abominations were being put to rest, he knew that this had to end the mad scientist’s reign of terror, and that he could no longer work as his left hand man. Prowl could feel the smoke burning his insides and his optics just when he saw the last room. Only one more room to look over before everything was complete, his plan would work without anything going wrong. 

The door was hot to touch. It burned his hand, burning metal against burning metal melted a little part of him, but not much damage was done. At this point, Prowl could easily block out the pain searing his pedes and hands, just so he could get out of here before he turned into a pile of melted wires and metal among the rest of the creations here. Throwing open the door as if in a panic, Prowl scanned the perimeter of the room, and being satisfied with everything in flames, turned to make an escape from the burning lab. Then his optics saw something blue among the orange and red flames. He could feel them watching him, and he turned with his gun already in his half-seared hands. Prowl knew that this was no intruder he needed to save from the harm of the fire. He knew this was that Primus forbidden experiment that he had witnessed his crazy partner create, and just as he realized that, out of the smoke and flame came the smile atop the unwavering face of Osteros.

Prowl made no move to remove his hand from the trigger, staring face to face with bot until their optics locked. Osteros made no move either: no twitch in his face or limbs, and no look of terror was met with Prowl’s hand, which was slowly closing on the trigger of the gun. It was in that moment that Prowl realized how wrong it would be of him to kill such a bot that didn’t even realize when death was staring him in the face. All of Mesothulus’ creations were abominations, even Osteros, but he couldn’t kill sentient life that didn’t understand why it was being killed. Prowl felt his hand release the gun, and instead being replaced with the arm of the poor bot. He picked him up, hurrying him out of the lab, out of the burning building, and into the night sky. Osteros was mesmerized by the mere sight of the stars.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope this format is a little better. I tried to break the paragraphs a little more this time. Enjoy!

Prowl could see the look in Osteros' optics as the bot stared up at the stars. He was wondering and watching them, possibly making out constellations, and piecing them together. Osteros was just like a sparkling, and Prowl forgot that Mesothulus had yet to bring him out to the real world yet for fear that his creation wouldn't survive.

With a sudden jolt of realization, Prowl remembered where they were and what had just happened. The authorities would soon enough be there to investigate the scene, and would surely know that Prowl had been a factor of destroying the lab. With a small cry of refusal from Osteros, Prowl placed the beaming bot on the ground, making sure he was steady on his feet before releasing him. 

"Come on, Osteros," Prowl commanded at the young bot. He held out a servo to him, letting Osteros examine it before the creation finally moved his arm and grabbed tightly onto the metal flesh. Prowl could only wince a little before he quite literally dragged Osteros away from the crime scene, and still smelling smoke from the fire, he continued to walk until no more smoke was identifiable.

The two were in town now. As they walked past, bots would stare at the two: at Prowl because of the burnt and melting metal coming off of him, and at Osteros because they could tell there was something off about him. Osteros continued to gaze at them with his unfazed, and somewhat terrifying, smile that had been plastered on his face. "Hi!" Osteros shouted to passersby, who scurried off except for one bot who waved at him but did not look up from his data pad to see where the voice came from. 

Osteros continued his 'warm welcome' until Prowl grabbed him by his shoulder and started to drag him off. Both of them needed medical assistance from the only medic he could think of...or at least the closest medic to them. Beckoning the smaller bot to move his legs, he dragged him off to their destination.

***

Ratchet stood inside the medbay, working fast on a slowly dying bot. Another easy fix, of course. That was when he noticed the black and white bot standing beside him. Ratchet didn't jump, and pretended like it hadn't startled him in the slightest. "You know, Prowl," Ratchet started without looking up from his patient, "this is a hospital for street-urchins, not the higher up castes."

Ratchet quickly focused on connecting tubes inside of the bot, slowly moving to connecting wires. This was the easiest part, and he could afford to look at Prowl while he did it. Looking up, the first thing he saw was Osteros and his continuous grin that spread across his face. "Primus!" Ratchet tried not to fall back or damage the work he had done, catching himself on the corner of the berth, he continued. "What in the pit is that...that thing!"

"That thing," started Prowl, "is what I just saved from a fire." He continued to motion at his own burns and scrapes that had appeared from his rescue. "He and I would both like medical attention." 

Ratchet continued to stare at the two, eventually sighing in defeat, and motioned towards the waiting room. "I'll get to you eventually," he replied.

***

It only took ten more minutes before Ratchet came out. His hands had already been cleaned of energon, and he was prepared for his next patient. "Alright Prowl," he said. "Normally I wouldn't do this, but since you and that other bot are so badly torn up, I guess I'll have to make amends." Ratchet turned to walk back, when Prowl replied, "That's good. I won't have to turn you in for having an illegal hospital being run."

At his statement, Ratchet clenched his fists and stalked off to the back medical room. "Come in Prowl, I'll try not to bite." The door swooshed open to let Osteros and Prowl enter. This room was dirtier than Prowl had expected: energon from past patients had littered the floor, and it seemed to be rusting. The black and white mech grimaced at the sight, and wretched at the foul odor. "Primus, Ratchet," Prowl said as he looked up to the medic, "I thought this would be better kept."

Ratchet was busy cleaning off the small collection of medical tools and instruments he had before him, but Prowl could still see the twitch of a smile come from the corner of his mouth. "I do keep the rooms kept better, but this one I saved just for you." Ratchet was so damn good at being evil sometimes. 

The medic motioned for Prowl to sit atop the filthy berth, where Ratchet began to meld metal together, and sanded off the cooled metal that had melted in the fire. Soon after, Prowl was looking like himself again.

When it came to be Osteros' turn, Ratchet just watched as Prowl lifted the bot onto the berth. "Alright Prowl," Ratchet said looking menacingly at him. "What exactly is going on here?" Ratchet could feel the nervousness twitching from Prowl as he backed away from the metal slab, aching to tell Ratchet the truth, but not wanting to involve the older medic. "This is...Springer," Prowl said, thinking. "I found him engulfed in a fire. That's the truth." 

Prowl thought to himself that saying this was okay. He hadn't exactly lied, after all. Just about the name.

"He needs armor," said Ratchet, starting to tend to what was basically a protoform's frame. Osteros had not been badly damaged, unlike Prowl. He had minor burns on his pedes, indicating that the fire might've only just reached the room he was in when Prowl entered. The greenish metal had melted somewhat on the bottoms, so Ratchet vowed to fix that first. "Will you be staying with...Springer was it? Will you be staying with him in this area?" Ratchet asked as he continued to fix the minor wounds.

Prowl took a second to think, finally responding with a slow nod in response to the question. He couldn't leave Osteros alone. The bot may have been a sentient being, but he was far from understanding what was happening around him. Prowl would most likely find a hotel and stay there for a few nights before he could introduce Osteros to Cybertron. Prowl had been so into his thoughts that it took him a moment to realize that Ratchet was talking to him again.

"...could make him some armor. Looks like his processor was damaged a bit, might fix that. Other than that, he looks alright." Ratchet set down the blow torch he had been holding and wiped his hands on a damp rag he had sitting by the tool table. "I'll keep him 'ere for the night," Ratchet continued without looking at either bot. "I should have the armor finished by tomorrow."

Prowl, again, nodded in response, quickly patting Osteros' leg, and turning on his heel to leave the raggedy medbay.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Would just like to say that if you don't want spoilers for Sins of the Wreckers, please do not read any of this fic until after you've finished SOTW. Thank you!

Prowl yawned as he onlined. He felt numb from just getting up, and was slightly annoyed when he noticed the culprit of what woke him. The flashing of light from his comm showed that Ratchet had been trying to call him for the past hour, but he had been too out of it to care to answer. With a little stretch of his back doorwings, Prowl decided to call back the medic, as the amount of calls he had received indicated that his message was urgent.

With a reluctant hand, Prowl grabbed the still beeping communicator and called Ratchet, who picked up almost immediately. He was instantly met with the screaming rage held within the medic. "Where have you been!!??" Ratchet yelled into the tiny device as if he were mad at it and not Prowl. "Ratchet, don't you understand that even I rest at five in the morning?"

The annoyance in Prowl's voice told Ratchet that he should back off from saying anything too rash. He continued, "You're paying me to operate on this bot, maybe you could at least come down here and see what I've done to him?"

Astonishment flew through Prowl to where he wondered if Ratchet was already complete with his project. He was eager to see what the medic could've done to just a plain protoform, and wanted to be there quickly to make sure Osteros wasn't scared of the place. He felt somewhat terrible for leaving the bot alone, as if it were his child. "I'll be there soon," Prowl told Ratchet as he threw down his communicator and ran out the door.

***

In the medbay sat Osteros. The bot was admiring his new finish, glancing at his bulky arms and legs. Ratchet could tell there was slight excitement in his optics. 

From the operation Ratchet had done on Osteros' processor, he knew that the bot was entirely artificial from the strange handiwork and odd glow coming from his optics and insides. /Surely Prowl didn't make this bot, right?/ Ratchet thought to himself in a contemplative manner. Prowl definitely wasn't a scientist, but he seemed to get involved in a less than desirable crowd of bots. It didn't entirely matter to Ratchet, however, as the bot sitting before him seemed almost entirely harmless.

In fact, he was actually adorable to some extent. Ratchet had put in code to Osteros', or Springer as he knew him, processor to teach him basic Cybertronian language skills, as the previous creator had forgotten that key part of Springer's creation. If nothing else, with a little exposure to society, the bot would be able to pass as a normal Cybertronian, and Ratchet was proud of that.

"Can you tell me what your name is?" Ratchet questioned the bot. Springer nodded and replied, "Springer." Ratchet smiled a little and continued to ask simple questions to help him build his use of vocabulary, and to make sure he had installed the programming correctly. 

It was about ten minutes after this had started that Ratchet heard the doors to the medbay open. A familiar black and white figure showed up in the doorway, looking tired and yet rested at the same time. Ratchet exited the small room momentarily to lead Prowl back in, where the cop stared almost unbelievingly at Osteros before him.

He was definitely a changed bot. With the new armor that encased his protoform-like frame, the only semblance he had to what was once Osteros was the color of his armor: a beautiful green. Even his smiling face had changed, and it now held one that was covered in little to no emotion. What Prowl noticed the most, however, was that the new bot passed as the real thing.

"Is this Prowl?" Springer asked. His voice cracked slightly from years of being unused, but nevertheless, Prowl understood and nodded in response. "I'm Prowl."

Springer gave a slight smile at Prowl and turned away to sit fully on the berth again. Ratchet looked to Prowl who was still mesmerized by how far Springer had come in just a short amount of time, when he felt Ratchet tug at the armor of his arm. Starting, Prowl turned to face the medic who cocked his head in the direction of the door. Getting the message, Prowl complied and walked out. "Give us a moment, Springer," Ratchet said as he followed the other bot into the waiting room.

The waiting room was empty, which Ratchet was thankful of as it not only meant he would not have to work for a while, and that there weren't any suffering bots on the streets. Looking at a waiting Prowl, he said, "I gave him his armor, fixed up some circuits, and added a little coding to him. Nothing harmful." 

Prowl nodded, switching the weight on his feet, and waited for more to come afterwards. "However," there it was, "he doesn't seem to remember anything about the fire, or even before you brought him into my medbay." Ratchet waited for some form of sadness to come from Prowl, perhaps indicating what this bot meant to him, but nothing happened, and Prowl didn't seem to be phased. Ratchet decided to start again, "I'm not sure why that would be, perhaps my operation changed something in his circuitry."

Again, Prowl nodded. He needed a lie to give to Ratchet. "Perhaps," Prowl said, "it would be best that Springer doesn't know about his lost memories. Abuse, stuff like that. It would give him a chance to start a new life."

Though the medic could see straight through Prowl's lies, he decided to play along with this lie. "Of course. That would be the best way to approach the issue."

***

It had been a few days since Springer had been released from the makeshift hospital. He was now able to communicate almost fluently with bots, and knew a lot about Cybertron just by the old medic and Prowl teaching him. Prowl had confidence that this bot would be able to make it into the world without any issues, so long as he didn't end up in the wrong crowd.

Almost like a proud parent, Prowl began to contemplate what types of jobs he should introduce Springer to: maybe he was good at sports, or he could be an archivist. Perhaps even a cop like himself. The feeling made Prowl giddy, and he almost didn't notice that Springer had stopped before he ran into him. Thankfully, he stopped just in time before tons of metal muscle could crush him to the ground.

Springer was staring off into the distance. He seemed to be looking at the neon lights of Cybertron's busiest city, which was Iacon. Prowl recalled the bot's reaction to being taken outside for the first time: looking lovingly at the stars.

"Sir," started Springer, "can we get some energon?"

Prowl had to hold himself back from face-palming. He had nearly forgotten to feed him! What kind of caretaker could he be if he forgot to feed the creation, or even himself. With Springer's words, Prowl realized his own hunger and sighed. "Yes, let's go." 

The two walked alongside each other, their tanks growling and churning as they approached the door of Maccadam's oil house. Not Prowl's normal location, but he would go there for Springer, who seemed intrigued by the colors and neon signs hanging around it.

When entering, Springer cracked the glass frame of the door, which sent small shards of glass to the floor. Not much damage was done, but Prowl knew he would eventually have to teach this bot that his strength should be controlled. Remembering back to when he was only a protoform, Prowl looked down at the hand that was grabbed by Springer, and how his grip on his hand hurt a little.

The two found a booth that was close to some rowdy bots, and waited for the classic small robot on wheels to bring out their ordered energon, which they happily sucked on once it was delivered. Springer stared at his glass as he drank, and Prowl watched him.

Springer finished faster than prowl: he was a bigger bot anyways, so that didn't bother him. He bought two more drinks for him before they had finally had enough. Prowl noticed how little Springer had talked, and how he thought he should start a conversation over their empty glasses.

"How do you like your new finish?" he questioned the bigger mech.

Springer gave a warm smile, unlike the fake one that Osteros had. "I really like it, is this color called 'green'?"

Prowl nodded.

"I think green is my favorite color then," Springer said, picking up an empty glass and trying to take the last drop of energon before putting it down in defeat.

Prowl smiled at the child-like behavior of the bot. He was only technically a few days old, so it was normal for someone so young to act like this. The reborn Springer was going to be fun to teach. Prowl raised his hand to get Springer another glass of energon, smiling when he saw the bot pipe up in excitement. The two would stay there and talk for a few more hours.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the late posting guys! I didn't have time yesterday, Anyways, it was brought to my attention that I have been misspelling Ostaros' name. Though I won't be going back to fix all of the misspellings, I will try not to misspell it again in the future.

After their outing, and a few more glasses of energon as requested by Springer, the two bots escaped back to the small hotel room that Prowl had paid for. This was the first time Prowl would be bringing the bot back to the room, as he had been under Ratchet's care up until now. Prowl soon found reason to be a little skeptical on how this would work, seeing as Prowl was an average sized bot, but how Springer was beyond average at this point.

The larger mech had to duck to get through the doors of the hotel's lobby, causing a gasp to escape the mouths of all of the attendants at the front desk. Prowl had hoped the appearance of Springer wouldn't cause much ruckus, but indeed it already had. The startled gazes left by the attendants had made Springer feel uncomfortable, and he had stopped in his tracks before being pulled along by Prowl to the elevators. 

Of course, that was a fun ride. The elevator was too small to fit both of them, so Prowl was crouched underneath of the green mech as Springer tried to keep his head from hitting the ceiling. "Sweet Primus," Prowl shouted, "did Ratchet really need to put this much armor on you?" 

Prowl saw the faintest bit of sadness in Springer's optic as he bowed his head lower, looking half ashamed. "I'm sorry, sir," Springer said in response. Springer still had a lot to learn about the emotions and actions of other bots, but Prowl didn't realize that. Prowl was just mad in general, but Springer took it to his own offense...Prowl softened his gaze after realizing he hurt him.

"It isn't anyone's fault, Springer," he assured him with a light pat atop his pede. "I just lose my temper some-" Prowl didn't have enough time to finish his sentence before the two bots were forcefully pushed out of the elevator by the opening doors. Springer nearly crushed a bot who had been waiting to board, and Prowl laid on the ground for a few seconds before deciding to get up.

/Thank Primus for that/, Prowl thought to himself. It was times like those that really reminded him of his raging claustrophobia. Maybe next time, he would take the stairs. "Alright, room 623, Springer." Prowl took out a small key card and started navigating to the door, feeling Springer follow behind him with each step.

When they finally reached the door, Prowl took a second to position the card in front of the door handle. Springer watched in awe as the door made a ~clicking~ sound, and swiped open to let the two enter.

"A secret room?" Springer questioned as Prowl led them inside. Shoulder's shrugging, Prowl responded, "I suppose it is." Prowl plopped down on the couch in the center of the room. "You can only access it if you pay for it."

Stepping all the way in, Prowl noticed that the tips of Springer's shoulders met with each side of the doorframe, and that he had to duck again to fit his head in. He hoped the poor thing could fit in the berth, and that he wouldn't have to sleep on the coldness of the floor.

"Springer." Prowl got up from his position on the couch, grabbing the firm and large hand of Springer who was still ducked down under the shortness of the ceiling's height. "I'll show you to your berth."

Upon entering the main berthroom, Prowl could already tell that the berth would be too small for such a large bot. Even when Springer gently sat on top of it did the metal creak under his weight. Prowl sighed, "Well I guess you can't recharge on that." Springer nodded in agreement.

Prowl tapped his pede on the floor, thinking about what he could do to compromise this situation. Thinking for a minute, he eventually threw Springer from the berth and tore off the sheets, comforter, and pillows, carrying them back into the living room. He opened a cabinet to find a set of spare sheets and comforter, throwing them into his pile as well. A makeshift mattress of sorts would have to do for his poor bot, but it looked comfy, and it was more accessible to Springer. 

With a less than powerful kick, Prowl moved a table further out of the way of Springer's bed space, and pointed to it for Springer to notice. "You can recharge here," he said. After Springer situated himself atop the mess of blankets and sheets, Prowl turned on the tv for Springer to watch, laying the remote beside him, and retreated to his own berth. He hadn't realized how exhausted he was.

***

It was two in the morning when Prowl first heard whimpers from the other room. Rubbing his blurry optics, Prowl sat up in his berth. Sitting there for a few moments, he decided he should investigate what was wrong with Springer.

Woozy from still being in a half state of recharge, Prowl wobbled almost drunkenly into the hall, finding Springer curled on the floor in the pile of blankets, which had been somewhat strewn around from a disturbed recharge. Springer was in the middle of a nightmare, and though Prowl had no idea what he could possibly be dreaming about, he decided to gently shake the bot online.

Springer, to Prowl's horror, shot up quickly, sending Prowl flying backwards.

Prowl was too shaken to even recover from his fall, watching as Springer crawled to his side. "I'm sorry, sir," Springer said, only helping by dusting off Prowl's plating lightly. Somewhat annoyed from being online, and from landing rather hard on his back, Prowl shook him off and gave him a deadly glare that would send shivers down even Unicron's spine. 

This apparently startled Springer, who cowered back to his nest of sheets and pillows, huddling in them for safety. "What were you whimpering about," Prowl said in what sounded like a very annoyed voice. 

Springer curled tighter into the blankets. He said, "I had a bad dream...I was trapped in fire..."

At the mention of fire, Prowl tensed up. How could he remember this? Was this some sort of phantom memory he had? Prowl didn't understand how Springer still had some remote memories of his past, but he felt that Springer should not know about who he really was. Instead of bringing it up as an issue, Prowl said, "Fire? That's a weird dream." 

Moving closer to the bigger bot, he asked, "Would it help if I stayed in here with you tonight?" With a small nod of his head, Springer opened one arm to let Prowl lay next to him. Prowl got the message and laid in the small space that Springer left for him on the floor.

Wrapping his arm back around the black and white bot, Springer fell into a deep recharge while cradling Prowl like a stuffed animal.


End file.
